


The Challenge

by cincoflex



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4371785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cincoflex/pseuds/cincoflex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never challenge a Slytherin; it makes them do stupid things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Challenge

The Challenge

He had done it.

Oh he had done it now. Painfully but proudly, he had, and even though tears threatened and his stomach roiled like two basilisks were fighting in it, he, Roger Hector Lackland De Malinbois, Head Boy of the Slytherins, had Done The Thing.

Challenge accepted. Challenge met.

Stomach in curdling agony.

“There,” he chuffed, trying not to let his voice go squeaky. “I _did_ it!”

Cheers broke out; excited shouts of disbelief and awe rippling through the assembled group.

Staring up at him, she nodded, her earnest expression wide-eyed as well. “Yessss,” she agreed, her own voice husky with awe. “You most definitely _did._ ”

Hyacinth Moffett, beater for Hufflepuff reached out and rested her hand on the front of his shoulder, looking with concern at his purpling face. “Er, Roger, maybe we should go see Madam Pomfrey? I mean, I’m sure you’re fine, but it WAS an entire cauldron of my Blazing Cinnamon Candy Froth and you know fussy old me, always erring on the side of caution.”

Around them the crowd waited and watched.

“Yes,” Roger finally managed a stiff nod, working for nonchalance. “Fine.”

Hyacinth moved to his side, slipping an arm around him and guiding him out of the Potions classroom, her tone soft. “All right everyone, you’ve seen what you came to see; yes Rodger _did_ it so let him through . . .”

Respectfully the clustered students did as requested, several murmuring admiringly. One bold Slytherin attempted to slap Roger on the back in congratulations, only to be warned off by Hyacinth’s stern over the shoulder gaze. 

Roger kept his jaw clamped tight, and managed a slow pace, all the better to keep the boiling heat that rocked around in his stomach from attempting an escape. The pain seared everywhere, and he felt sweat popping out at his hairline and back of his neck. His legs moved woodenly. He tried not to whimper.

Six pounds of liquid fire sloshed in his gut, but by Merlin he had Bested it. Stood up for the honor of Salazar Slytherin! Showed those other Houses exactly what he was made of . . . .

Which at this moment seemed to be a skin bag full of cinnamon-flavored lava, apparently.

They made it out to the landing and away from the crowd.  
He groaned. “’Cinth, I’m . . . an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Oh Roger!” she murmured, her arm around him giving a quick squeeze. “Well, yes, you are an idiot. But you are also . . . .” she lowered her voice, her tone gentle. “Amazing.”

end


End file.
